


Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

by CelestialSymphony



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:08:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4587234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialSymphony/pseuds/CelestialSymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Platinum Jail has crumbled and Ren disappeared out of his Allmate likely never to be seen again.  Aoba must seek solace in his friend Kojaku in hopes he can patch his heart back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A puppy’s bark. It should’ve been a happy sound, tied to memories of summer days and cheerful romps barefoot through the grass. Instead, it had broken his heart. Memories of that beach, the sounds of the waves crashing, the skin on skin, knowing so much about himself, and the feeling of it all. He had felt so complete, so right with the world. Then the harsh reality pulled at him once more. The tower crumbled. The world was changed. And the voice he wanted to hear more than any other was replaced by the cheerful bark of a puppy.

Aoba rolled over, he’d been dreaming of Ren again. He didn’t bother opening his eyes to check the pillow where the allmate body sat in off mode, he had checked it every time he woke up the first few days just to make sure it wasn’t a bad dream, that Ren wasn’t really gone. But the reality had gradually set in like an unrelenting chill and Aoba had resigned himself to stay in bed where he could at least see Ren in his dreams.

Granny moved about the house quietly, leaving food outside Aoba’s door and collecting the untouched dishes later. The pangs of hunger dulled after the second day, though he did pull himself upright and chug a water bottle that lay on the floor next to his bed, his will to live saying it wasn’t time to give up yet. As he tried to go back to sleep, there was a soft rapping at his door. Aoba ignored it, just like he had ignored his coil when it rang the first day before turning it off completely. The knocking came again, this time accompanied by a soft, low voice.

“Aoba?” it was Koujaku.

Aoba pulled his blanket up tighter around himself and rolled away from the door, hoping that if he didn’t answer his friend would go away. He should’ve known better. After another moment, his door creaked open and Aoba felt another presence enter the room. Soft footfalls on the floor and then a dipping in the bed from added weight.

“Aoba,” Koujaku’s voice was gentle, “Come on, Aoba. You need to get up.”

The blue haired man groaned, reflexively curling in on himself more as he tried to will Koujaku away and bring back his fevered dreams of Ren. A slender yet persistent finger gently tapped the side of his face. Aoba tried to swat it away but missed only to have it return a little harder this time.

“Leave me alone,” he was shocked at how raspy his own voice sounded, “Damn hippo.”

“Get up and eat and maybe I will,” the familiar playfulness in Koujaku’s voice was forced, a hint of worry coloring the edges of his words.

“I’m fine. Just…let me sleep.”

“You’ve been sleeping for over a week now,” the dark haired man poked Aoba’s face again, “Tae says you haven’t eaten in as long.”

“I’m fine,” Aoba grit his teeth, bitterness seeping into his voice as he swatted at Koujaku’s hand again, more aggressively.

“Obviously not,” Koujaku prodded again, “You haven’t spoken to anyone since Oval Tower fell.”

“I said I’m fine!” With a sudden and tremendous kick, Aoba sent and unprepared Koujaku tumbling to the floor, “Why can’t you all just leave me alone?!”

“Aoba!” the hairdresser huffed from the floor, “That hurt.”

“You don’t know pain!” Maybe it was the delirium from lack of food and water, or the hysteria of all the events that had transpired built to overflowing, but Aoba stumbled from his bed and grabbed fistfuls of Koujaku’s kimono and shook his friend violently, “You don’t know what it means to hurt!”

“Aoba!” Alarm. Good.

“You just…” The haze passed and the chill sank deep in his heart causing Aoba to release his friend and clutch his own chest, “You…just…you don’t…”

Koujaku caught Aoba as he fell onto his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. All the pain, all the loss poured in an endless torrent of tears. He mumbled incoherently into his best friend’s chest. Names flew out. Toue. Sei. Ren. Sly. It was all too jumbled for Koujaku to understand. Instead he kept one arm wrapped tightly around Aoba’s waist; the other ran soothingly back and forth across his back. After several moments, the blue haired man began to calm down, his breathing returning to normal save for the occasional hiccup. Koujaku noticed Aoba’s eyes begin to flutter close and roused his friend.

“You can’t sleep yet,” he soothed, “You have to eat first.”

Aoba simply nodded, not objecting but not trusting his voice. Rolling sideways off his friend, Aoba tried to stand but his legs were weak under him and wouldn’t support his weight. Koujaku stood and tried to help Aoba up. When it became apparent that he was too weak to stand, Koujaku scooped him up bridal style and carefully replaced him on his bed.

“Koujaku!” the blue haired man protested, but lacked the energy to fight off.

“Wait here,” and with that he disappeared out the door, returning a few moments later with a steaming tray of food, “Scoot over.”

Aoba did as he was instructed and Koujaku slid onto the bed next to him, helping the other man sit up with the aid of a few pillows to prop him with. Handing him one of the bowls of rice, Koujaku waited till Aoba took three mouthfuls before he himself launched into the meal Tae had set out for them.   
He had been out of the hospital a few days, his injuries minor. The first day he had come straight to Aoba’s only to find his friend fast asleep. Tae had fed him and sent him away, instructing him to let Aoba rest. The second day, he could tell something was wrong just by the tone of Tae’s voice. When Tae called his coil the third day, he knew something was wrong. Briefly, she had explained what she knew and voiced her frustration at how much she didn’t know and practically begged Koujaku to do something.

Pushing his bowl back into Koujaku’s hand; Aoba settled down, curling into his friend’s side and casually tossing an arm across him. Careful not to move too much, Koujaku removed the dishes from the bed and placed them onto the floor before wrapping an arm protectively around Aoba’s shoulder. Soon, the blue haired man was sleeping leaving the older man to quietly contemplate the situation. He’d gotten him to eat, that was good, but the outburst had raised more questions. Aoba suddenly hiccupped a sob in his sleep and called out a name.

“Ren!”

Rubbing his arm lightly to calm him, Koujaku turned his eyes from Aoba to the little pillow at the foot of the bed where a lump of dark blue fur lay motionless.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the nightmare again. It always started out pleasant enough. His mother showering him with affection. Then came the harsh voice of his…father. Not that Koujaku liked that label, but it was a label none the less. His father speaking to…commanding him. The sideways glances. The hushed harsh whispers. Then those cruel eyes, kitsune smile, and jabbing searing unending pain. And rage. Rage beyond measure. Beyond comprehension. Rage that tore at the fabric of his sanity until it ripped him in two. Then the darkness. Sound of dripping. Blood dripping. His hands covered in blood. Oozing blood. His mother’s blood. His mother…

Koujaku shot up with a deep gasp, his chest heaving, eyes searching around frantically. It took a few seconds and several long blinks before the room came in to focus. Not his walls. Not his bed. Someone next to him. A figure rousing from sleep.

“Koujaku?” 

Aoba. Memory. He’d spent the night at Aoba’s. The dark haired man fell back onto the pillow next to his friend.

“Just a bad dream,” he sighed, “Go back to sleep.”

“Mm-hm,” and like that the blue haired boy was out again.

It had been nearly four months since oval tower fell. At first Aoba had been stuck in a downward spiral. Koujaku had helped pull him out of it. Now Aoba had returned to work at Heibon. Things were slowly returning to normal. As normal as they could return to. Koujaku visited Aoba and Tae regularly. He would stay up late playing games, enjoying good food, and attempting to ignore the forlorn glances Aoba would throw at the blue lump of fur at the foot of his bed when he thought Koujaku wasn’t looking.

Last night had been no different. Well, other than there was alcohol involved. They were celebrating. They had gone to visit Mizuki, who was making a nice recovery. The doctors thought he’d be out soon. Possibly the next day if test results came back positive. The pair had gone to visit their friend and had returned to Aoba’s in good spirits. It was natural to fall asleep next to Aoba. To protect him. To care for him. Being around Aoba was as easy as breathing air. If it hadn’t been for the nightmare, he’d have counted it as one of the best nights of his life. Now he was wide awake, listening to the blue haired man snore softly. It was over and hour before Aoba stirred again, and by then Koujaku had played the dream over and over in his mind a dozen times, focusing on those sharp eyes and wicked smile.

“Morning,” Aoba stretched.

“Hm,” the dark haired man grunted.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” he put on a smile, “Just a little hung over.”

“Light weight,” Aoba scoffed and rolled over, not seeing Koujaku’s smile drop.

“I think I’m going to work today,” the hairdresser stirred and got out of the bed, his bare chest pulling taunt as he stretched.

“Yeah, I should probably head in soon,” the blue haired man mumbled against the wall.

“Yeah, if you can ever get your lazy ass out of bed,” Beni buzzed to life on the bedside table.

Koujaku laughed as he put on his kimono, “I’ll call you later, ya?”

“Yeah,” Aoba huffed.

“And don’t go back to sleep!” Beni flew over and landed on Aoba, pecking at him.

“Gah!” Aoba swatted at the Allmate, “Stupid bird.”

Later that afternoon, Koujaku was wowing a large crowd that had gathered to see the legendary master at work. He’d just finished up with a client, kissing her fingers gently much to the dismay and envy of other patrons, when his coil rang with a message. It was from Mizuki.

They won’t discharge me unless someone comes and checks me out. Help?!

Laughing, the hairdresser responded.

One more client then I’ll be there.

“I’m sorry, friends,” Koujaku beamed, “I can only take one more, then I must depart.”

There was a great cacophony as protests were made but he silenced them with a dashing smile. Soon enough, he was finished and packed, the crowd dispersing as the dark haired man made his way to the hospital. 

Mizuki had a sour look on when the hairdresser arrived, “They won’t even let me walk out. They’re gonna make you wheel me out the door before I’m allowed to stand up and walk on my own two damn feet.”

Koujaku just laughed as he signed the form a grateful looking nurse pushed at him. Once out of the building, Mizuki practically leapt onto his feet…then nearly fell back down making the dark haired man howl with laughter. With some unappreciated support, the hair dresser made sure his crimson haired friend made it back to his place. As they entered the shop, Koujaku could see a thin layer of dust covered everything and he clicked his tongue.

“I thought you had someone looking after the place?”

“I did,” Mizuki wrinkled his nose, “The lady across the street was ‘looking’ to make sure nobody vandalized it. Safely from across the street. I’ll get it cleaned up.”

Taking off his sword and loosening his kimono, the dark haired man laughed, “Why don’t you sit down? I can handle this.”

Mizuki glared at his friend, but made no protest. Koujaku threw himself into his work; pulling out cleaning supplies, dusting shelves and whipping down counters, sweeping and mopping the floors, stealing a shot from Mizuki who sat at the bar with a bottle of sake. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow into the shop when Koujaku flopped down on a bar stool next to his friend, a contented smile painting his lips.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Mizuki poured a shot and passed it to his friend.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” the dark haired man just winked before downing the liquid.

Setting the glass down, Koujaku surveyed his work. That’s when he saw a face down picture on the counter. Twitching his lips to the side, he pried himself from his stool and crossed to the downturned frame. Picking it up, his eyes raked across the image and his blood suddenly turned to ice. The image was a beautiful tattoo design, curved and flowing, a distinct style.

“Mizuki?” Koujaku strained to keep his voice even.

“Hm?” the crimson haired tattoo artist turned.

“Where did you get this?”

“What?” Crossing to his friend, Mizuki saw what Koujaku was holding and smiled, “Oh, that? It was a gift. There’s this tattoo artist who still practices the traditional style. His designs are beautiful. He dropped by several months back, right before all that mess with Morphine happened. If he comes back around I’m thinking about asking him to put that design on me.”

“No!” the dark haired man fumbled to regain his composure, “I think you should wait till you’re back on your feet fully.”

“Yes, mother,” Mizuki rolled his eyes.

“I have to go,” Koujaku shook his head, “Do me a favor? This guy shows back up, call me right away.”

“Koujaku?”

“I’d like to meet him,” the hairdresser faked a smile, his blood slowly boiling inside.

“Alright,” Mizuki laughed nervously, “Well thanks again for everything.”

Koujaku ducked out of the shop and took deliberate steps down the street back towards his own home. His skin tingled and he tried to keep his arms from shaking as he ground his teeth together.

“Whoa,” Beni flapped his wings on Koujaku’s shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

Koujaku huffed out one work, “Ryuuhou.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooooo sorry this took 4 months to post. Busy with my off-line life and just didn't have time for this story. Please enjoy!

Aoba had been sitting at his desk flipping lazily through a magazine on new Allmate parts most of the day. It had been slow. Haga-sans little cleaning Allmate, Bonjin-Kun, quietly whirred around the store dusting. This was what his life had settled into. He woke up, went to work, went home, went to bed, and repeated. Koujaku was often in that equation, and Aoba was glad of it. Memories of Ren still haunted the back reaches of his mind, but somehow Koujaku had helped ease the pain till it was a dull, numbing throb. And with Mizuki’s recent recovery, the three had settled into a similar routine as before all the events of Platinum Jail. Even Clear made an occasional appearance, Mizuki was strangely fascinated with the gas mask wearing man. Once Aoba even thought he spotted Noiz down an alleyway, but before he could really tell the figure was gone. Mink was never seen again after oval tower. Just like Ren.

Aoba sighed and tried to focus again on the magazine. When the doorbell rang he looked up, glad of the distraction.

“Good afternoon,” Aoba began his usual introduction then stopped, taking in the sight of the customer.

The first thing he noticed was the way the man was dressed. While Koujaku always wore a kimono, they were still an unusual sight, so the fact that this man also wore one was odd to begin with. The royal blue of the fabric was stunning, the color so dominating his appearance that it seared into his first impression of the man. He also wore strange accoutrements. A blue glass ornament hung from his throat, and countless skulls wreathed his neck, waist, and wrists. His greying blond hair gave his a bit of age, but his eyes were bright blue and closed slightly as he smiled at the young man behind the counter.

“Good afternoon to you as well,” the man’s voice was soft, melodic and entrancing, yet slightly unsettling in its timbre.

“Welcome to Heibon,” Aoba cleared his throat, “May I help you with something?”

“Just looking,” the man smiled again, his eyes briefly glancing at the shelves before returning to stare at Aoba.

“W-well,” Aoba chuckled nervously, “If you need any assistance, please let me know.”

The man just kept smiling and Aoba was relieved when his coil rang and he politely excused himself to answer it.

“Aoba!” Mizuki cried, his contact photo displaying in hazy blue smiling back at the blue haired boy, “Big party tonight at the shop!”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Aoba laughed, “You’ve only been out of the hospital a couple of days, Mizuki.”

“Come on man, Koujaku already said he’d be here.”

“Alright, alright,” Aoba sighed, “What time?”

“8 o’clock. Be there!”

“I’ll be there,” Aoba sighed with a chuckle, “But I have a customer right now, so I gotta go.”

“Don’t work too hard!” And with that, Mizuki hung up.

“Sorry about that,” Aoba looked up but found the store empty once more, the strange man nowhere to be seen, “Huh.”

The rest of the day wore on uneventfully, the strange man all but forgotten when Aoba arrived at Mizuki’s. Music thrummed through the building so loudly that Aoba could hear it outside before he entered. Shaking his head with a laugh, the blue haired man pushed his way through a throng of people as he entered the shop. Colored lights flashed and music blared as a sea of faces gyrated and lined up at the bar.

“Aoba!” Mizuki’s familiar face appeared right in front of him, “Come, have a drink with me!”

“Shouldn’t you be taking it easy?” Aoba chuckled.

“Now you sound like Koujaku!” Mizuki pulled a face before sputtering a laugh, “He has no room to talk though, he’s already ahead of me on drinks.”

Aoba allowed himself to be lead behind the bar even as he reprimanded his friend, “It’s only 9. How can you both be drunk already?”

“Years of practice,” the gang leader gave him a sly wink before pressing a shot glass into his hand, “A toast! To friends!”

“To you,” Aoba inclined his head before touching the glass to his lips and tipping it back, the liquor burning its way down his throat.

Pushing his way through the crowd, Aoba was startled when he bumped into a tall figure. As he went to apologize, his mouth went dry and his eyes widened. It was the man from earlier in the day, the one in the blue kimono who had visited his shop. Stammering, Aoba couldn’t make any coherent sentences as the man just smiled and spoke first, his silky voice dancing into Aoba’s ears over the music.

“My apologies,” the man purred, “I really must watch where I’m going.”

“It’s my fault,” the blue haired man found his voice, “Please, excuse me.”

As Aoba side stepped the man, he couldn’t help but feel a tingle all over emanating from where he and the man had touched. He could feel the man’s smiling eyes watching him as he made his way through the crowd and towards the back door for some much needed air. As the cool breeze wafted through the open frame, Aoba felt his head clear and gulped in deep, cold breaths. Something about that man unsettled him. But also enticed him. It was probably just the liquor addling his brain, he had forgotten to eat again and experience taught him that alcohol on and empty stomach wasn’t a good mix.

“Aoba?” A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” the blue haired man shook his head, “Just a little too hot in there.”

Koujaku smiled, exhaling a thin wreath of smoke as he leaned on the railing that surrounded the little porch area, “Mizuki sure knows how to throw a party.”

“He should be taking it easy.”

“Hey, everyone needs a little irresponsibility in their lives every now and again,” the dark haired man flashed a smile that always made Aoba’s stomach feel a little tingly, “Least of all Mizuki. You should be indulging too.”

“I think I better pace myself,” the blue haired man sighed.

Koujaku stamped out his cigarette and turned back to the door, putting one hand on Aoba’s shoulder, “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Aoba replied absentmindedly, “Just…had a weird feeling.”

“Aoba?” the hairdresser chuckled nervously, “You look pale, like you’ve seen a ghost. Do you need some water?”

“No, It’s just…” the man sighed, shaking his head, “It’s probably nothing, just me being paranoid.”

Koujaku waited before prompting, “Explain?”

“There was this guy came in to the shop today,” the blue haired man began, “He was just…not creepy but I felt odd when he came in.”

“Like Clear odd?”

“Shut up,” Aoba scoffed and smacked his friend playfully in the arm, “No like… like he had other intentions, I guess? I dunno, I’m kind of still fucked up after all that Platinum Jail stuff. Anyway, he disappeared from the shop, not too out of the ordinary. But I just bumped into him inside.”

“This creeper followed you to the party?” The dark haired man straightened up, laughing it off but an air of unease settling in.

“Probably just a coincidence,” Aoba shook his head at the absurdity of it all, “It’s all strange. I felt light headed when I bumped into him. It was probably a mix of the shot I’d just done and the surprise at seeing him again.”

“And what’s this guy look like?”

“Sort of tall. Fox like eyes and an easy smile. Short, greying brown hair,” Aoba rubbed his eyes, “Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?” Koujaku put his arm around his friend’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” the other man leaned in briefly before pulling back, “Go enjoy the party, I’ll be back in shortly.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for your stalker,” Koujaku straightened with a smile, heading once more for the door.

“I hope I never see him or his blue kimono again,” Aoba sighed off-handedly.

Koujaku froze. The air suddenly turned too cold and Aoba rubbed his arms, looking sideways at his friend. Maybe Koujaku’s alcohol had caught up with him and he was feeling dizzy.

“Aoba,” the tone in Koujaku’s voice sent an ominous shiver down the blue haired man’s spine, “Stay away from this stranger.”

Before Aoba could question him, Koujaku had disappeared back inside. Aoba stayed outside a little while longer before reentering the party. The night continued on with no new sight of the stranger. Occasionally Koujaku would appear in the sea of faces, but he would simply nod at Aoba before disappearing again. The blue haired man would’ve been concerned about his friend except Mizuki kept cornering him and forcing shots into his hand. After the 10th shot of who knows what, Aoba seemed to forget why he was worried about Koujaku. After the 15th shot, Aoba forgot about Koujaku completely. After the 20th shot, Aoba could barely stand. 

It was nearly one in the morning when the blue haired man stumbled out the front door, Mizuki laughing at him and goading him to stay. Aoba had insisted that his own bed would be preferable; it wasn’t that far back to his place. He made it about a block before he started reconsidering. His head was spinning and he could barely put one foot in front of another. When the wall he was leaning on for support abruptly ended, Aoba pitched sideways. But where he prepared himself to meet cold asphalt, he was instead caught by strong arms that steadied him.

“Koujaku?” Aoba slurred, looking up to the figure who’d caught him.

“Not exactly,” the man purred.

Aoba felt a tingle run through his skin. It was the stranger from earlier. Had he been in a sober state of mind, the blue haired man would’ve made a hasty exit. As it was, he clung to the stranger like he was the only solid rock above water and Aoba was drowning. The man held him up and began walking, Aoba struggling to keep his feet under himself. A few dizzying turns down blurred streets and Aoba felt himself ushered in to an unfamiliar building. The stranger lead the blue haired man to a small room with a long couch where he helped the inebriated young man lay down.

“Should…” Aoba began, his tongue feeling heavy, “…home.”

“I think you’ll find this more fitting,” The stranger purred, running a cold hand down Aoba’s face.

Aoba tried to move his face away, but that made the world spin. He felt a cold dread flood his body as the stranger moved his hand down the man’s neck, pulling back his coat, hand sliding down his shirt, playing with the hem of it before pulling it up to run smooth, chilled fingers over his stomach. Aoba’s body tensed as the stranger danced his fingers along the young man’s waste, the tips of his digits tracing just below the fabric of his jeans and underwear. Aoba’s breath hitched with fear and excitement as the man tangled fingers into blue pubic hairs. Heat rose in Aoba’s lower abdomen as the stranger flicked open the button on his jeans and pressed cold kisses to his neck.

“So perfect,” the man groaned, “What a sweet, pure canvas.”

Aoba gasped as cold finger wrapped around his responding member, the fear and thrill mixing into a cacophony of pounding blood in Aoba’s ears. He should run. He knew he should get away. But the stranger was intoxicating. Aoba’s hips thrust involuntarily as the stranger purred. Suddenly, there was a loud bang as a door flew open somewhere and an all too familiar voice roared.

“RYUUHOU!!!”

Suddenly, the hand was withdrawn and Aoba grunted in complaint. Koujaku’s yelling had brought him a little back to himself, enough to better assess the situation. The stranger who must be Ryuuhou by Koujaku’s call was standing next to him, a sly grin playing on his lips as he looked towards the intruder. Koujaku was standing framed in the doorway, his hair wild, his kimono askew and tossed off his shoulders, and his sword drawn. This sobered Aoba up even more as he scrambled to sit up.

“Well if it isn’t my greatest masterpiece,” Ryuuhou purred, “Come to watch me make another?”

“You will not touch him,” the dark haired man growled.

Aoba looked closer at his friend. Was his hair turning…red?

“Oh but I already have,” the blue clad man moved the hand that had been in Aoba’s pants to his face and, extending one delicate finger, licked it seductively, “And he tastes so pure. So innocent. So ready to be the canvas of my greatest creation ever.”

“BACK! AWAY!” Koujaku stepped forward and the other man raised his hands with a cold laugh, taking a few steps away from Aoba.

“Still as angry as ever I see,” Ryuuhou chortled, “Let that anger wash over you.”

Aoba felt the cold dread in the pit of his stomach intensify at these words and reached out to his friend, “Koujaku. Just get me out of here.”

The dark haired man slowly stepped into the room, his sword still leveled to Ryuuhou, “I will never stop being angry. Not with you. Not ever. I have hunted you down for years.”

“And now you’ve found me,” the man’s persistent smile widened, “So come, take your revenge. Complete my master work. Become what I set you on the path to be.”

Koujaku had reached the couch, but he never turned to Aoba, instead keeping his sword trained on the blue clad man. At this distance, Aoba was positive as to the change in his friend’s hair, it was getting redder by the second. Then, when Koujaku passed him, Aoba was struck by a far more sinister sight. Koujaku wore his kimono at all times, but that hadn’t stopped Aoba from spying bits of tattoos here and there on his friend. He did not, however, expect the large peony blooms that decorated his back. Even as he saw them, Aoba noticed they seemed to be pulsing and shifting, expanding and entangling themselves across Koujaku’s back and shoulders. This was not good at all.

“Koujaku,” Aoba pleaded, his alcohol induced haze completely obliterated by the severity of the situation unfolding in front of him, “Koujaku please. Let’s just go.”

“End it,” Ryuuhou laughed maniacally, “If you don’t, you know I’ll never stop. I’ll find him. I’ll take him. I’ll make him mine. Forever.”

“AGH!” Koujaku roared and charged forward even as Aoba shouted for him to stop, but it was too late.

The sickening sound of blood splattering the floor rang out. Cold, smiling eyes glazed over and Ryuuhou’s smile never faltered as he leaned forward on Koujaku’s blade before slumping to the ground dead. Koujaku stood above him, body heaving and quivering. Aoba carefully stood and stepped towards his friend.

“Koujaku?” Aoba took another step when he received no response, “Koujaku.”

The now red haired man whirled and Aoba felt his heart stop. The peony blossoms now covered his chest, pulsing and expanding even more. Fangs jutted from Koujaku’s mouth like some sort of wild beast. But worst were his eyes. Blood red with sinister yellow pupils that glared at Aoba like his was prey. The crazed Koujaku let out a low, guttural growl as he raised his sword and leveled it at Aoba.

“Koujaku, it’s me!” Aoba stammered as he took a step back, “Snap out of it!”

With a swipe, Koujaku’s blade cut through the air as Aoba leapt backwards, stumbling over his own feet and crashing to the couch. In a split second Koujaku was on top of him, his heavy thighs pinning Aoba to the couch as his free hand wrapped tightly around the blue haired man’s throat. Aoba coughed and sputtered as he tore at his friend’s hand.

“Kou…jaku!” Aoba coughed and gasped for air.

The red haired man growled in return, bringing his face close enough to touch Aoba’s, his hot breath dancing along Aoba’s cheeks. He didn’t have time to think, time to rationalize it or even feel the presence of the Sly, Aoba could only act.

“I will set you free,” the dual voice spoke, and suddenly the world disappeared.

No matter how many times he’d fallen into scrap, he never got used to it. The swirling tunnel vision, the sudden darkness, waking up to strange surroundings. This time was no different. Paper walls, bamboo floor, soft orange light, and the sound of a distant sob. Nothing like the chaos he’d just left. Before he could get his bearings, something slithered nearby. Was that…hair? No time to think, just act. He ran. Through door after door after door, Aoba ran, pursued by the slithering mass. When he had almost run out of will, the next door opened to a different scene. A young man sprawled out onto the floor. No, a young Koujaku. Another man over top, digging in a long needle. Ryuuhou. Flashes. Memories. His mother. Blood. His father. Blood. His past. Blood. Koujaku wrapped in the slithering mass of hair. Blood. Koujaku in pain. Blood. Koujaku hurting. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Aoba reached out, and suddenly they were back. Back to the room with the couch. Koujaku still over him, but black hair and kimono and smiling. No Ryuuhou, no sword, no fear. A kiss. Visions of their past. But it wasn’t real. Shattered. The fake world fell away. Back into scrap. Back into blood. Aoba reached out again, this time touching Koujaku’s face, his hand staying there.

“You can’t run away,” the words came to his lips from deep within, “You can’t hide. You have to accept this. I know. I had to as well. You have to fight it. You have to own it. You have to win. You can’t give up.”

Koujaku’s voice choked out, “Why?”

“Because,” Aoba felt the butterflies in his stomach race to his throat, “Because I need you.”

Kissing, they were kissing. Aoba was kissing Koujaku. Koujaku was kissing Aoba. The orange lit room shattered away and they were back in reality. They were kissing. Koujaku’s hand which had been around Aoba’s throat now cradled the back of his head. His chest, still naked, heaved. His hair fell like black ribbons around them, wreathing their faces as they kissed. Aoba’s hands, which had been clawing for air, framed Koujaku’s face, holding him close as they shook with tremors. The kiss finally ended, they pulled back for air. A blush ran across Koujaku’s face as the euphoria faded. Neither spoke, amber eyes stared deep into ember ones. They moved slowly, their lips millimeters apart.

“MASTER!” Clear burst through the door, his gas mask askew as he took in the scene.

Koujaku practically leapt from Aoba as the blue haired man blushed and stood, “Clear. What are you doing here?”

“I heard Master’s voice,” Clear explained, “It sounded like Master was in trouble. Looks like Koujaku came to save you though.”

Aoba looked at the white haired man, then to his dark haired friend, then to the body on the floor, “Yes. Koujaku saved me from this man.”

“Good thing,” Clear nodded, “That was one of Toue’s people.”

“Toue?” Aoba gawked.

“Yes. I recognize him. He was wanted by the police,” Clear shrugged.

“We should get out of here,” Koujaku spoke up, “Before someone else comes along.”

“Go ahead, Master,” Clear moved into the room, “I’ll take care of this. You get Koujaku home. He looks a little worn out.”

Aoba shook his head a smiled, “Are you sure? You should leave too.”

“Don’t worry Master,” Clear nodded, “I know what I’m doing.”

“Let’s go, Aoba,” Koujaku grabbed Aoba’s hand before blushing and letting it go.

“Koujaku?” Aoba’s face was tinged pink as he looked at Koujaku’s feet, “Could I…could we go back to your place? I want…I still don’t feel…safe.”

Koujaku just nodded, leading the way out of the room as Clear happily set about cleaning up and disposing of the fallen Ryuuhou.


End file.
